


Black Market Tongue

by always_addicted



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Licking, M/M, Season 2 spoilers, accidental injury, alpha saliva has magic powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 02:25:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/always_addicted/pseuds/always_addicted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles gets injured. Derek helps him heal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Market Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> *re-posted from my old account*
> 
> Prompted by an anon on tumblr - "Trying to escape from a kanima attack, Stiles gets caught in the crossfire and takes an arrow to the leg. Derek rescues him and nurses him back to health." I may have adapted it a little bit :)

Stiles knew it was a bad idea. The minute Scott had mentioned the word ‘woods’, he should’ve just said no. But he hadn’t. Jackson, for all that he was an ass, was still only sixteen years old and unable to control what he was. In fact, if anyone should be taking responsibility of him, it was Derek. He was the one who bit him after all.

But that was neither here nor there.

The Argents had somehow figured out what Jackson was and Victoria had ordered for him to be taken out before more people got killed. Allison had overheard the ‘discussion’ and had immediately told Scott who not only enlisted Stiles’ help, but had apparently called Derek for back up.

Stiles wasn’t so sure that Derek wouldn’t end up just helping the Argents in this case. But perhaps his hatred for the Argents would win out over his need to ‘fix’ his mistakes.

Allison stayed at home, deciding it was best to stay away from the whole thing. It was probably a good idea. If her family found out that she had told a bunch of werewolves about their plans, well, Stiles didn’t like to think what they would do to her. However, they weren’t going in completely without her. She had, for some bizarre reason unknown to anyone else, given Stiles her crossbow.

It had worked out pretty well to begin with. Jackson was quick enough to dodge both the hunters and the werewolves – who Stiles wasn’t actually sure were helping him and Scott or not – while he and Scott distracted the hunters.

Stiles hadn’t actually wanted to injure anyone too badly, so he mostly shot his arrows at legs and feet, and once, at one of the hunters hands. Sure it only grazed his knuckles, Stiles’ aim requiring some practice, but it was enough to get him to drop the weapon that had been aimed right at Jackson’s head.

Eventually, Chris Argent managed to hit Jackson in the leg with some kind of special dart that had him returning to his human form immediately. But before the hunters could move in, the wolves surrounded him, protecting him from them. Stiles wasn’t entirely sure why, maybe Derek actually felt some guilt along with his responsibility so felt like he had to give Jackson a chance or something. Whatever the reason, Stiles wasn’t really caring. He was too busy moving in to check that the now unconscious Jackson was still breathing.

Luckily, he was.

“Leave,” Derek growled at thee hunters.

“Get out of the way, Hale,” Chris Argent called. “He’s killed a number of innocents and needs to be put down.”

“You and I both know those people were anything but innocent,” Derek replied, his eyes continuing to flare red as he protected Jackson with his own body, the other four wolves flanking him. “I bit him, I caused this. I’ll take care of it.”

“He needs to die.”

“Do not tell me how to punish my pack, Argent,” Derek growled, his fangs dropping as he crouched down, ready to pounce should he have to.

Chris stared at him, giving him a calculating look while Stiles pulled the dart out of Jackson’s leg. He wrapped it up inside his hoody. Hopefully there’d be some residue of whatever poison was on it so that he could get Lydia to look at it. That had surprised him, Lydia wanting to help. He’d thought after everything she’d been through, Stiles had thought she’d run a mile and leave Jackson to his fate. But he guessed she still cared about him as she’d said she’d do whatever she could to help protect him.

Meanwhile, Chris must’ve decided it would be healthier to concede a loss in this battle. Probably had to crawl back to Allison’s mom and get her to decide what their next step would be.

“We’ll be watching him,” Argent said before leading his band of merry men away.

Stiles waited until the hunters were well out of his sight and saw both Scott and Derek relax slightly before he stood up, lifting Allison’s cross bow with him.

“Well that was… ow.”

Everyone froze and stared at him. Stiles looked away from their shocked faces annd down at his foot. And yup, there was an arrow sticking out of it.

“Let’s be honest,” he said as he looked back up, “we were all waiting for that to happen,” he said before promptly fainting.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“I did not faint,” Stiles protested.

“Really? ‘Cause it looked like fainting to me,” Derek said, punctuating his words with a dab of disinfectant onto the gaping wound on Stiles’ foot.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t gaping, but there was a small hole there and it hurt. A lot.

Stiles hissed at the added sting. “I was merely… resting my eyes.”

Derek chuckled at him, actually full on chuckled, smiled with a shoulder shake and all.

After he had ‘fainted’, which he will deny to his dying day, Derek ordered the four betas to take Jackson to Deaton... in Stiles’ jeep. Apparently they needed the four of them in case he woke up and decided to go all Curtis Connors on them again. Derek meanwhile, took Stiles home. It was while in the passenger seat of the Camaro that Stiles woke up.

At first he was a little freaked out at being alone with Derek, but then realised that if Derek had wanted to kill him, he wouldn’t do it in his car – blood stains were rather difficult to get out after all.

The Sheriff was out of town. Stiles’ Aunt Jonnie (previously Uncle John), his Dad’s sister was having some kind of surgery – Stiles was sure it was The surgery – and needed someone at home to help until she got back on her feet. Since she didn’t have anyone else, his Dad had of course volunteered, leaving Stiles alone. Which, y’know, if there hadn’t been ACTUAL scary monsters lurking in the dark outside his window, would’ve been really cool. As it was, he’d been pretty much terrified for the past three days. And his Dad wasn’t even due home for another week and a half.

But as it was, it was actually pretty handy that his Dad wasn’t there, ‘cause it meant that Derek could actually take him back to his place and not whatever dump he and his pack were currently hiding out in. He assumed it was a dump because while his clothes weren’t exactly dirty, Derek was always unshaved and had a constant layer of dirt around his fingernails.

Thankfully, his Dad kept some surgical gloves in the first aid box, so Stiles wouldn’t have to risk infection from having those dirt ingrained fingers poking at his war wound. And of course he had insisted that Derek put them on before touching him.

“Wiggle your toes,” Derek ordered him.

Stiles, who was sat on the kitchen table, Derek on a chair beside him, did as he was told. He was able to wiggle his toes just fine, but it did hurt.

“Don’t think you hit the tendon,” Derek said as he turned to rummage through the first aid box. “Do you have any sutures?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Stiles said, pulling his foot back from where it had been sitting in Derek’s lap. “I am not letting you give me stitches.”

“Well it’s either me or I take you to the hospital, where I believe Scott’s Mom is on shift tonight,” Derek said scowling up at him.

Stiles pouted and lowered his foot again. “Well we don’t have any anyway.”

Derek stared at him, obviously not wanting to have to go to the hospital and explain Stiles’ injury any more than he did. Then he stared at the foot, blood starting to ooze through the gauze he had placed on top of it to keep it clean.

“I could lick you.”

“You could… what?” Stiles hissed, pulling his foot away again. “You could lick me? Did you just say that? Am I hallucinating? Is this some kind of weird dream? Am I gonna wake up in the forest next to a naked Jackson in a minute? Actually, I’m not sure which would be worse.”

“Do you want my help or not?” Derek growled.

“I don’t remember asking for your help in the first place,” Stiles bit back.

“Fine,” Derek said with a shrug.

Standing up, he pulled off the gloves and grabbed his jacket from where he’d draped it on the back of the chair. As he started to make his way to the front door, Stiles jumped down off the table to shout at him to make sure he closed the door on his way out, but he didn’t even get that far, falling over the second his foot hit the floor and yelling in absolute agony.

Rolling to the side, he tried to pull himself up, but he could barely make it onto his knees before the pain hit again. Luckily though, Derek seemed to find him writhing in agony pitiful enough to come back.

“You’re an idiot,” Derek told him as he lifted him up and placed him back on top of the table. “Let me see,” he added, pulling the now once more heavily bleeding foot up to his face.

“God that hurt,” Stiles moaned as he flopped down onto his back, arm thrown over his eyes.

Blocking out the light and concentrating on the way Derek gently mopped up the new blood, Stiles took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself. He did not want to faint again. Though he was pretty sure if the pain didn’t stop sometime soon then he wouldn’t have a choice in the matter.

“Look, I can either take you to the hospital,” Derek said with a sigh, “or you can let me heal it for you.”

Stiles didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to go to the hospital, but he was pretty sure he didn’t want Derek licking his foot either.

“How long will it take?” He asked, pushing himself up onto his elbows. If it was going to take long then he’d be as well just going to the ER.

“Hard to say,” Derek said with a shrug as he gripped onto Stile’s ankle and held his foot high, presumably to stop the bleeding. “I’m an alpha now so the healing properties in my saliva are stronger than they used to be. That and I’ve never tried it on a human before.”

“That’s not exactly informative,” Stiles quipped.

“Beta to beta, it takes minutes. Alpha to human could be the same,” he explained. “Won’t know until we try.”

Stiles sighed. He knew this was the only way he was going to stop the bleeding without his father finding out that he’d gone to the hospital. And yeah, he really had no idea how he was going to explain how he managed to shoot himself in the foot with a crossbow.

“Fine,” Stiles said, lying back down again. “Just, what happens here stays between us right?”

“The word ‘duh’ springs to mind,” Derek said.

Stiles didn’t have to look at him to know what he was smiling again, and that in itself would’ve been totally weird if he hadn’t been about to, no, there he went. Yup. Derek was licking his foot.

It was probably, the most bizarre sensation Stiles had ever experienced. It was uncomfortably creepy at times, then at others, it was incredibly relaxing. Stiles could probably have fallen asleep – if not for the occasional uncomfortableness. Perhaps Derek’s saliva held more than just healing properties. Or maybe the weird tongue massage he was receiving was just making him chill. Maybe he had a weird foot kink that he didn’t know about until now… but then, surely he would be horny rather sleepy?

“Oh my God,” Stiles said, smiling.

“What?” Derek asked, letting go of his foot. “That’s about as much as I can do.”

“Thanks,” Stiles said sitting up and looking at the half closed wound on his foot. It had stopped bleeding too, and the pain was mostly gone.

“Stiles?” Derek asked. “Why’d you say ‘oh my god’?”

“Oh. I think I’m high,” he said with a grin.

“You think you’re high?”

Stiles nodded, grinning up at Derek as he slid to the edge of the table. “Must be your special werewolf spit. Seriously, you should sell that on the black market or something.”

“Huh,” Derek said, a thoughtful look on his face as he stared up at Stiles. “You ever been high before?”

“No. Drunk, many times. But never high.”

“You don’t sound high,” Derek pointed out. “Just… chilled.”

“Whatever. You should still sell it, ‘cause it’s awesome,” Stiles grinned again as he slid off the table and directly onto Derek’s lap. Using Derek’s surprise to his advantage, he draped himself over him and nuzzled into his shoulder.

“Um, Stiles? What are you doing?”

Derek sounded panicked. Stiles knew that. But panicked was better than angry. “I’m getting comfy.”

“Um…”

“And you are very comfy,” Stiles informed him before turning his head and so that his nose was pressed right up against Derek’s jugular. “And you smell nice. What is that, Old Spice?”

“No, it’s called sweat,” Derek said.

And there he was, sounding amused again. A pair of hands came up to rest on Stiles’ hips and for a moment, Stiles thought Derek was going to push him off of his perch. But they merely gave him a small squeeze before loosening their hold again.

“You don’t wear aftershave?” Stiles asked sitting up to look at him.

Derek shook his head. “It makes my nose twitch.”

Stiles laughed, a tiny giggle escaping his lips. “What about mine?”

“You’re not wearing any,” he said before leaning forward and sniffing Stiles’ neck. “But I like it.”

“You like the way I smell?” Stiles said with a huge smile. It was more of a statement than a question, but Derek just shrugged anyway. “Are you high too?”

“I don’t get high, Stiles,” Derek said him. “But, I do feel…”

“Relaxed?”

Derek nodded. “More than I have been in a long time,” he admitted quietly.

As Derek looked down, his usual emo frown falling onto his face, Stiles reached out and cupped his jaw. “You know, you don’t have to do this on your own,” he said. “You never had to do it on your own.”

“Who was going to help me?” Derek asked. “You?”

Stiles shrugged. “Why not?”

Derek stared at him. Stared right through him, his eyes taking in every detail of Stiles’ face as if he’d just saw him for the first time. Stiles opened his mouth to tell him to take a picture, that it would last longer. But before he could, Derek had covered his lips with his own in a kiss so gentle that it completely took Stiles’ breath away.

The lips softly pressing against his own were completely surprising. He’d always though Derek would be a rough kisser, not that he imagined how Derek would kiss. Not really. But he barely even felt stubble against his cheek, instead only feeling a light puff of air and a hammering in his chest as Derek pulled back.

“Oh wow,” he whispered.

“Open your eyes,” Derek said, a hand gently stroking over his eyebrow. Stiles hadn’t realised he had even closed them, but did as he was told for once and opened up his eyes to look right back at Derek.

Derek didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to. His face was completely honest and open and Stiles could read every little bit of vulnerability that was normally kept so well hidden. He wanted nothing more than to take all of that away, to soothe all the pain much like Derek had done with his foot earlier. Well, there would probably be less tongue involved… or actually…

“Upstairs?” Stiles asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.

Derek nodded, the smallest of smiles gracing his lips as he leaned back in to kiss Stiles once more. “Upstairs.”

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr account can be found here - [always-addicted](http://always-addicted.tumblr.com/) :D


End file.
